Observe
by beatles-revelution1204
Summary: In the weeks after Sherlock's death all Enola can do is observe and try to help a friend. Post Riechbach. So I suppose spoilers if you haven't seen it. Includes Sherlock's little sister Enola Holmes. May have multiple parts


Enola Holmes was a sensible woman so when she walked into apartment 221B she knew not to do several things. She knew not to ask Doctor John Watson how he was doing. She knew not to fuss about and try to do things for him. She also knew that she was never allowed to bring up her brother in any sense. Any failure to follow these self-made rules would result in horrible feelings for John and by extension herself. So instead she sat quietly and observed.

Enola Holmes sat silently in the apartment that her brother that once inhabited. Nothing had moved; John hadn't had the heart, but everything seemed much cleaner without the elder Holmes dashing about. John's limp has returned and his hand shook once more, but Enola felt like she was the only one who still noticed. His eyes were darker than normal and he always had a disheveled air about him, like he hadn't slept properly since it happened. This had become the normal for John Watson apparently and no one ever saw it as a cry for help.

She was snapped out of her observations when she failed to observe that the man in question had asked her a question. "I'm sorry, John, what did you say?" He sighed and looked defeated but she knew it had nothing to do with her. It was because ever since it happened he was always defeated, but he tried to pretend he was okay anyway. "I asked if you wanted some tea." She nodded quietly and ended up sitting in her brother's thinking chair. Ever since the fall she had been the only one allowed to do so.

Enola went back to surveying the apartment while John busied himself with the distraction of making tea. Like it was stated before, nothing had moved. Cases were on the desk as if waiting for the great consulting detective to come sweeping through the door and pick them up. The skull was there, ever present. The books of endless knowledge placed on the bookshelf. Some experiments had to be thrown out because they were hazardous to John's health, but those were the only things missing. Everything once belonging to the great Sherlock Holmes had a fine layer of dust settled on it that was never to be disturbed.

She then turned to find John holding a cup of tea out to her tenderly; as if afraid he would drop it because of the shaking of his hand and the unsteadiness of his leg. Enola accepted it gratefully and took a sip before setting it down and looking at her brother's flat mate. "So…John. How are things at the clinic going? I heard it's been busy." John seemed to look almost happy at the safe topic and answered it so quickly that Enola hadn't the time to prepare. "Oh, it's been very busy. There have been a good number of cases involving over-protective mothers and their kids. They fret about their children so much it's a wonder I can get the diagnosis out." Enola smiled kindly at the light in her friend's eyes. They continued with the idle prattle, something Enola hated, for a good time before silence clawed its way back into the air.

Enola realized when she was beaten. John could only handle so much interaction with the Holmes family, be it her or Mycroft. Before long he would always find something of Sherlock in each of them and he would shut down altogether. She took the silence as her cue and picked her coat off the back of her chair. "It was a lovely chat John. I'll see you around, okay?" He nodded despondently before slumping a bit. Enola sighed and picked up the two teacups and their saucers and depositing them in the sink before going back to the living room to give John a hug. She stooped to his level and gave him a hug which she fully expected to not be returned. She was surprised today however when a warm arm came across her back. "Thanks…thank for not asking how I'm doing." She smiled kindly and kissed his temple before standing and heading towards the door. Her response floated to John's ears after she began down the stairs. "What kind of Holmes would I be if I had to ask something with so obvious an answer, John?"

It was the first time in weeks that he had laughed. Mrs. Hudson nearly had a heart attack at the sound. And a man lurking down at the cafe felt a bit of his worry melt away.


End file.
